


The Birdsong

by wilhelms



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M, Other, au based on historical characters, the birdsong, wwi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2157054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelms/pseuds/wilhelms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1914 the Great War broke out, it was time for the Great Empire to be divided but it was a different Empire, different war and different story. Please read the explanation. AU !</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The War Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annetheseamaiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetheseamaiden/gifts), [Darkpheonix1594](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkpheonix1594/gifts).



> A huge thank you to annetheseamaden and darkphoenixgoddess that reminded me that I still have this account and sort of kicked my butt and inspired me to write fics again. 
> 
> This is so AU that I even considered to create a different map, name different countries as we must bear in mind, there was no Victoria, the Tudors era was different etc. etc, that is how hard it is to imagine AUs for me but every name sounded so "Narnia-like" I have just chosen to ignore it and will try to explain it. 
> 
> The look of Europe. The Great Empire is as wide as Ireland, England, Scotland, Wales, Germany, North France, the Czech republic, Serbia, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Slovenia and part of Macedonia. 
> 
> In 1914, Edmund York, the heir of the throne is shot by one of the Republicans whose leader is Henry Tudor, Welsh-born idealist aristocrat who grew up to fancy republican, democratic views thanks to his uncle´s learning. Richard York, the king that is sick slowly declines but his son Edward is eager to start a war. He attacks Serbia, armed men march to Sarajevo and in January 1914 war is declared.

The young girl was sideyeing her older sister. The strawberry blonde girl was so concentrated on her plate that her younger sister expected the food to be cooked just in front of her eyes. She did not turn her eyes away, it soon became a challenge for her. How soon will she noticed? A young boy gigled, 12 years old Richard was watching his 18 years old sister Mary challenging his 19 years old sister Lizzie, the one with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes of a beauty. Lizzie was tall, thin, with lips so red boys would bet who would be the lucky one to kiss them. Her pale complexion and freckles indicating she was indeed a girl boys would dream of. 

Her sister, just a year younger was of a different shape, smaller and thinner. Mary was more fierce, more boyish, more courageous than Lizzie. She was too quick to say an opinion, too quick to judge a person, her wavy blonde hair, the eyes she shared with her sister, the inheritance from their mother was finally being noticed. "Stop staring at me, you little idiot". She scolded her, Mary just shrugged. Richard the younger one of two boys exchanged the looks with his sister, continuing to smile. He was the only boy in the room, though not desperately missing his older brother Edward. 

Hardly anyone knew the depths of her thoughts, the depth of her worry, the reality of a situation that she has found herself in. It was two days after the war was declared and now they were sitting here, waiting for their breakfast. She, the hairess of the throne, the throne that was not even wanted. The throne that was more a curse than a blessing. Her father walking from one room to another, amusing his brothers. Her mother drinking red wine as if nothing in the whole universe could break her good spirits, nothing in the whole world would ever take away her luxury. Elizabeth was smiling. "Are you alright, darling?" she looked at her daughter, the oldest one and (not that she told them) her most beloved one. "Yes, mother". How pathetic it was, how pathetic all of them were. What was she going to do now? What was she to do? Why? Was it because she always dreamt of adventures? But all young girls dream so and none of them find themselves in the middle of the war. This was not how it was supposed to be! She wanted adventure but she wanted to run in the country, get married in Scotland, dance till her feet hurt, laugh till she would gasp for air, love him till they would both run out of breath, she did not want to fight, she did not want him to fight. Henry, her Henry. Where was he now? 

A rebel was standing in the middle of Parisian square. "People! People of resistance!" he was gathering his supporters, they have issued advertisements, they have issued the newspapers, now it was finally worth it. He could not believe it was actually happening. They were going to be free, they were going to live in the fair democracy. He was trembling with excitement, with the cold of winter, he searched for the eyes of his uncle, the man who supported him the whole way along. There he was. He smiled slightly, Jasper encouragged him, along came Margaret, mother who no rebel could be more proud of. She summoned the female resistance. She was determined to put her royalist upbringing aside for her son and do whatever it takes for his success. Henry was aware of the effect that he had on people. He dressed simply and did not talk big words of educated scolars he had to memorize as a child growing up in the aristocratic Empire. He was eager to make it simple. He knew his biggest advantage lied with them. With people of "lower" births, of those who did not matter for the Prince Edward IV. 

There was one person in the crowd that scrutinized this whole theatre. Thomas Stanley, the stephather of the rebel, his face cold but interested. He did not know where he stood but he wished it to remain a secret, he was calculating, listening, watching, sensing, he would always know what to do and while his wife was running from one corner to another, trying to put the pamphlets into the hands of young men and women, while her son was talking his lungs off he would stand still, deciding. A smile crossed his face knowing there was another men,doing just the same in his home in Ireland. 

Richard Neville, a man that did like war, indeed. He fought wars for other countries, he won them, he lost them, he fought pirate ships, he stole the gold that was stolen, he liked the old fashion ways but he also liked the feeling of importance. His view on the whole situation was similar to his brother-in-law, Stanley. It was rather charming how two people (that if not hated, disliked each other) bring together. The problem was not the fact that Stanley married the sister of Richard Neville, the marriage was prosperous, done for money and although not entirely joyful did not bring much pain to Eleanor but Richard did not like the marriage of Margaret and Thomas and even less he liked the fact that he was not the most important person at the moment. Both him and Stanely were people who would declare their loyalty but who would be not rather trusted. His 34 years old daughter Isabel was watching her father tapping his fingers, he was bored, indeed. The whole world could be itchy but her father was bored. It was irritating. "Father?" she said "Father?" she had to repeat it for him to notice "Could you not, please?" she pointed at his fingers. "Oh, sorry. I am going to take a walk, see if your sister might come".  
Isabel could finally breath easily. She could not wait for Anne to arrive. Her younger sister was so rarely home now. Anne was more involved in the war than Isabel could or wanted to imagine. While Isabel tried her best to avoid her husband´s speculations and concentrate on keeping her home clear and her three children educated, dressed and in good manners her sisters was interested in all the doings of her husband, Edward. Edward whose family was partly involved in the rebellion and wholse opinions changed with the wind. Her mother-in-law would be the end of her as she believed it. Her only son, Gregory was a shy, quiet child with nothing better to do than collecting watches and playing chess. She often wondered why he turned out to be the way he was because certainly neither her or Edward were so quiet. It drove her crazy. She was driving a car, watching her way. "Greg, darling. I hope you are going to enjoy yourself a bit" a desperate attempt of a mother to finally entertain her son. He was an ugly child, he was a striking image of his father. What his parents did not know was the inner character of their child. He was simply not interested in these things, he was a painter, a poet, a romantic soul (perhaps that is why he was secretly hoping his father would join the rebellion and take him in, oh to die in the name of freedom!). The marriage of Anne and Edward was..... practical, as many people they married for money, for positions,for the fact that they were born in the important families. They ... respected each other, he had lovers adn Anne ... well she fancied couple of men as well. There was no shame in that. She had two lovers in her life and one of them was the brother of the king. She smiled to herself when she remembered those sweet nights she spent with her childhood love. "Richard" she blushed, hoping her son did not notice. 

They were home. Her father waved, she put herself together. "Father" she spread her arms and hugged him. Her son followed. "How good to see you". 

Everyone was waiting, only Richard Neville smiled. He liked it that way, chaos was his home.


	2. Warwick Revisited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ! all comments are welcome! I hope it does not sound too fantasy-like and is at least imaginable to happen. anyway, tell me your opinion :).

It was not unusual for them all to gather in Warwick, no matter of their opinions. Richard Neville was a family friend, member of a parliament and as much as Edward did not want to admit it, an important person. Richard of York getting older and sicker stayed at home, most of the time. His persona was represented by his wife Cecily, not too much for his sons´ liking, his role as a king was declining. Parliament (and Neville himself) were usurping more and more power to themselves. Monarchy was passé. Richard, the youngest of four brothers (Edmund died tragically at young age) were on their way to see their family "friend" and cousin Neville. 

The castle of Warwick was one of a many possessions of a person they so wished to posses nothing, for someone who torn between being a monarchist or a revolutionalist he was keen on aristocratic traditions like .. luxuries. For Richard it also meant one more thing, he was to see Anne Lancaster again. He smiled to himself. A little secret that was between them (or not). Richard could not stand Edward. His firmness, coldness, the face with no expression. He wondered why Anne stayed with him. "Why don´t you just divorce him" he asked her once, several years ago. "My father would not agree. Plus, there are some other reasons" she smiled, hoping that this topic would be forgotten and never brought up. She could not tell him, she was unsure about her feelings towards Edward. Edward was .... he was reserved and sometimes boring but she knew, she simply knew he loved her, in his own little Lancaster way. He was like North with everything associated with it, his coldness hid something more, she knew he would be on her side, no matter what. Plus there was a 12 years old child to consider. 

It was Anne who now waiting outside, watching the car approaching. This was supposed to be very odd, her husband, her lover, her cousins but she smiled and waved. "Boys" she kissed all of them, nodding to Elizabeth (not the most favorite person in the Neville household) and asked with a smile "Your Royal Highness, what about the bus of your children" she giggled. Edward was not offended, himself being fond of jokes, he looked at his eyes rolling wife with a laugh "on their way, on their way". 

Lizzie did not wish to go but at the same time, she had hopes that perhaps Anne would understand her troubles. She was always close to her aunt´s sister. There was something revolutionary about Anne, about everything she did. She was fashionable, elegant but not in the same way as Isabel, while Isabel was perfect in everything, Anne was perfect in the fact that nothing on her was perfect. She was different, new but not because of fashion but because of her visions, manners, opinions. This has charmed Lizzie so much, she often wondered if she would be the only person who would undersatnd her troubles with her "revolutionary lover". Lizzie could not wait till she was to get out of the crowded car, full of her crying siblings. It was impossible to read a book and the road was way too long. 

As guests arrived, Anne Beauchamp was rulling the castle, this was her place. "Richard, I don´t care about your objections at all" she said without turning her back. It wasn´t her husband, it was Isabel. "Izzy" she said, surprised. The look on her daughter´s face was far from a pleased host Isabel usually was. "Tell me the truth, mother" she asked. Her tone serious. "What does this dinner mean?"   
"What are you talking about?" she raised her eyebrow.   
"Just tell me if George is leaving as well"   
Anne swallowed. Of course her daughter knew. The was was declared. Her daughter might have been a better observer than she would guess.   
"Which side" she asked without waiting for her reply.   
"Did he know?" another question followed. 

In the evening the same day, the Neville, York and Lancaster family was dining together, Belgium was attacked by Serbia, who was supported by the Empire of Russia. At the same moment the Nevilles were laughing, the same moment Anne Lancaster was shushing Richard York, giggling in the dark bedroom where she used to hide as a child, the war was beginning.  
The command was given and signed by Edward York. 

Dearest Lizzie, 

we survived. everyone is well. i hope you are well as is your family.   
I miss you tenderly but cannot say much. 

H. 

that was the telegram that arrived two days later. When everyone was discussing the events, Lizzie York was crying.   
Anne was watching her, it was hard for her to hold the tears and while others were upset, she seemed to be distant. 

"Lizzie, darling. Let´s come and talk." she put her hand over her shoulder, helping the young girl out of the room.   
"What is it, darling girl" she did not put her hand away from her shoulder.   
"Who is it?" she gave up.   
"Henry Tudor"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading! this one was just to push it to the start. next chapter should be more filled with action aka, boys chosing sides etc. Nothing is decided yet so I am curious as well. Haha. It is weird to imagine them older and parents and yeah. I wish I could do good graphics, though!


	3. Please, Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary´s point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to http://maryplantagenet.tumblr.com/ , a wonderful person, supportive friend, my favorite Scot (along with Kelly Macdonald and Ewan McGregor, Amy Macdonald and Travis) and a brilliant writer.   
> if you are a roleplayer or like to read historical roleplay, do not hesitate and follow her.

With her ear on the wooden door, she was listening to her sister´s conversation. She was crying on Anne Neville´s shoulder. Mary liked Anne but why did it have to be her? Why wasn´t her sister crying on her shoulder? Why didn´t she come to her? She was her sister after all, she was the one to know how to smooth her pain, she was the one who was supposed to stop her tears. Younger but not so much, they were so different yet unseparable. She wished she could have her sister back, the sister that always came to her as she did when they were children but now, Lizzie was so distant. If she ever spent time with them, she would rather go to Cecily, their quiet and humble Cecily. 

Lizzie did never come to her, to tell her about Herny, she did never come to ask what to do. Did she truly think Mary would tell their father? Why would she do that? Why would she betray her? She sat on the cold floor, until she could hear Anne´s footsteps. Lizzie had to fall asleep finally. Mary was running the hall. 

"Mary!" Anne hurried up to catch with the girl.   
"Were you listening?" she did not know if she was scared for Lizzie or if she was amused.   
"I..." it was enough of a proof that the girl didn´t know what to say. She was listening after all because otherwise what would she know about her sister.   
"You want a hot chocolate?" Anne asked with a smile. Mary was surprised she was not judged. Nevilles were always somehow present in their lives but Mary was never close to any of them except of Teddy. Teddy could be hardly taken seriously. 

While making chocolate, Mary was feeling a bit itchy. What was she doing here? Why? When the chocolate was ready to be served, Anne turned with two cups with a smile on her face.   
"So why were you listening?"  
"eghm" nothing came out of her mouth. Mary was so embarrassed. "I just ... Lizzie never tells me anything. " she looked away.  
But Anne was surprised or angry or disappointed, she still had that smile on her face.   
"My sister also stopped sharing her secrets with me at certain age. It is what sisters do. It happens, Mary. Your sister is not sure who to trust and ... "   
"But she trusts you! Why doesn´t she trust me?"   
"Because it is easier to be judged by someone else than by your own family"   
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Paris, France

The war was declared. Now it was not a joke, now there was no time for revolutionary dreaming. Now there was no time for empty promises of battles, of heroism. It was real, so real that Henry could not close his eyes.   
The poor cottage outside Paris was now finally calm. Rooms filld with maps, plans, papers, new posters. Henry looked from the window. His mind taking him far away, far away ... to her. His Lizzie.   
Now tomorrow he will go and fight. Tomorrow he will go and ask Belgium for help and then attack England. How silly it was. He had wondered, long time ago, what it would be like. The day before battle. What it would be like to really start something big, something that would change the world and be , be the cause, be in the middle of it all and now here he was, admired and hated. 

He jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Harri"   
Only his uncle called him Harri. His broad, Welsh, dear uncle. Uncle that was more of a father to him than his own old pa. Henry never knew what to think about his father. As he grew up the image of his father having a child with 13 years old girl disgusted him but his mother never spoke badly of Edmund... she never spoke of Edmund at all and even if she did mention him, it was only his surname in connection of a great name.   
Henry turned to face his uncle, he was sleepy. The man hasn´t slept in days, weeks or months. He always had this smile on his face, a smile that made Henry uneasy. Jasper had to run from Wales, leaving his family behind and his daughter was now dead. Just few weeks ago, a message came Helen died. His uncle did not even see his grandson, nor could he go back to the funeral. Despite not showing it, the grief was carved in his face.   
"Can´t sleep?" he asked, though it was not necessary.   
"Nagh, a big day tomorrow."   
Jasper nodded.   
"Uncle?" Henry asked, carefully.   
"Yeah?"   
"What if I am making a mistake?"   
"A mistake, Henry but we...." Jasper was ready to defend the cause, their cause, Henry´s cause, he was ready to repeat Henry´s ideas himself but Henry stopped him.  
"What if it is not worth it and people will die and people will lose their loved ones"   
Jasper blinked. "that might happen Henry but we will die anyway and why not to try and make this world a better place? You are not the only one to believe that what you are to do is right. What shall happen, will happen. Leave it to God to decide"   
Henry smiled, his uncle, always knowing what to say. His simple words missed the deep intellect and deep thoughts and yet he always managed to solve everything with his common knowledge. There was something noble about him, despite his dirty clothes, despite his messy hair and although Herny was young and strong, a real leader, Jasper, Jasper was the soul of it.   
"I am ready" he smiled.   
"Good" Jasper said. "Let´s hope it is all worth it. " 

\-----------------------------------------------------------  
Warwick was uneasy, more than the others. He had good supplies. Good supplies of amunition and everyone knew it. Republicans and monarchists. Who to support?   
Somehow he did not like the fact that Woodvilles were gaining more and more seats in Parliament and Edward supported everything that came out of their mouth, just to shut Elizabeth who was constantly whining about his lovers was not much to Warwick´s liking. 

A knock on the door. Warwick smiled, he knew who that was... there was another person undecided who to support. "Yes, George"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and as always, forgive me for my mistakes


	4. What about now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pick your side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, N. ( http://maryplantagenet.tumblr.com/ ) said she reads it so I will continue writing it as long as she does. :)

What now? Mary was sitting in the living room, something people would consider as big as a whole family flat but this time, it did not matter, the luxury. She hugged her knees. Her father was screaming at his cousin. Warwick was undecided and he did not hide it. Mary was looking for Lizzie but she has not been out for days. Anne Neville was going around the room, bringing everyone´s a cup of tea and biscuits. She was smiling and flirting with Richard. It did not mind Edward was here. Was this man blind ? Mary did hardly understand. This was beyond logic. This was beyond everything.   
They were picking sides! Picking sides! Deciding destiny in the living room. How absurd !   
She run to Lizzie, it did not matter that she had not talked to her in ages. She now needed her sister, more than ever. She knocked on the door, furiously, loudly but it was not necessary, the answer came soon. "Yes?"   
"Liz, it´s me. Mary."   
"Come in" Lizzie was in bed, next to her was sitting Cecily.... they were ... playing cards! Wasn´t her beau fighting a war somewhere in France?   
She entered the room carefully. "Are you okay?" Liz asked almost amused.   
"Aren´t you supposed to cry?" Mary was one of these people who said things plainly. She would not walk around for days, picking up her courage.   
"Why?"   
"Because of Henry!" she whispered.  
Lizzie seemed shocked for a moment. Has she ever mentioned that to Mary? She was sure not to.   
"Are you a spy or what?" there was no way out .   
"Well... I am doing what all sisters do, alright. Maybe I am but you are behaving oddly and everyone knows anyway"   
"Everyone? Ma and Pa?" she was scared, it was obvious.   
"No, you silly. Me and Cecily and Anne and Isabel perhaps. "   
She seemed releaved. She even came to hug her. "Join the club" she pointed at Cecily. 

"So?" Mary sat on the bed. It was so soft, far better than hers but it was the way it was with LIz, she always was the favorite, but that was not the case for now.  
"Well, they are not going to attack until they are ready but one of them has to do the next move. I think they are waiting for the West´s reaction so they can start fully. " The cold voice in which Liz talked surprised her.   
"And you?"  
"Me?" She laughed. What a fool her little sister was ! How far from reality !   
"What am I supposed to do Mary? My family being royalists, my love being republican. What can I do? Just wait and see and pray everyone is alive. I don´t know what to do, Mary. " She looked away, because she had nothing to say or because there were tears in her eyes. Mary did not know.   
She looked at Cecily but Cecily was looking at LIz´s back with no certain expression.   
"Come sister" Cecily finally stood up to take the sobbing Lizzie away. 

\---  
"How far are you eager to take it?" It was Edward´s voice she could recognize it. Anne was drying her hair in the bathroom. "Oh darling, you might scare me with these creepy habbits of yours"   
It was rare that Edward would comment on anything. On anything she was doing. Anne was not sure what did she feel for him, she was not sure why she could not divorce. Right, her parents would be against it. They would yell and kick and blabla but they would calm down eventually. She knew her father knew about her affair and she knew he would never disinherit her or her son. They had their differences but he after all paid for her education and it meant something. Somehow, her mother always found a way to remind her father that he should support his daughters in higher education and although neither her or Izzy didn´t go to university, they went to the best grammar school England had to offer. Anne loved to read, loved to talk about politics and loved Paris. She was a modern woman and she was proud of it. Perhaps part of her personality was pretentious, she was not as intellectual as she might want, neither she was the exact breathtaking beauty or the best entertainer but she had charmisma and she knew that.   
For once she turned on her heel, amused by Edward´s expression. Finally he showed some sort of feelings for her. She wanted him to get jealous, she wanted him to get furious and champagne made her a bit tipsy for once.   
"Eddie" she laughed "come on. This is us, this is how we live"   
Edward had his fair share of love, though she did not understand who was so desperate.   
"But him? York? After all this time. Come on, Annie" he still called her Annie? Was he not so indifferent?   
"Well, Richard is a sweetheart, you know that. Have you seen these curles?" She was still joking around but he suddenly felt the uncontrolable anger.   
"Anne" he took her in his arms. His eyes facing hers, he had such cold grey eyes. They were scary but also fascinating. "Don´t go with him. I won´t let him take you" he kissed her furiously, biting her lip. She shivered at first, she tried to break free from his hands but she gave up. His anger was passionate not violent. She kissed him back, caressing his hair. There still was something between them. They made it to the bed, her hands almost tearing the sheets, her lungs gasping for air.   
"I will stand against him" he said after he was standing up. It was time for shower. For his shower. "I will fight for Henry and if I can I will kill him" he did not turn his back. He was too much of a coward to face her. 

\----------  
"Have you decided?" Anne Beauchamp asked, taking off her earnings.   
"Yes" Richard said, his tone was calm but his heart was not. What did it mean now? To make a decision was one thing, to take action was another.   
"I will support republicans ..." he said, turning the lights off.   
Anne did not let him to cut that conversation short.   
"But what about our children, Richard! You will stand against them?!"  
"George is with Edward that is clear. Isabel will support anything he does, my love but that is her decision not mine. She is a big girl. God knows I love her but when it comes to politics the game is different" he said simply.   
"Anne?"   
"Edward is with Henry."   
"But she and Richard, you know what has been going on between them for ages."   
"Yes and Richard is with his brothers, I do not know who she is going to chose. Perhaps we might talk to her about her decisions. She has a son, she has a husband. Would she risk it all? I think she would but will she? Oh that is a question!" 

Why was he so theatrical? Why did he have to make fun of it? Her darling daughters, her baby girls ! Anne Beauchamp prayed, after years she prayed with her whole heart. God save my children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are brilliant if you have read it till here.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it! I am used to writing fics for myself or one or two readers but I am so excited to create something so different that I would really, really appreciate if you left a comment, compliment or a criticism, I am thankful for both! 
> 
> a special dedication to Solenne, Lauren, Natalia, Vicky, Jazz, Rachel, Chrissie, Jessie, Mary, Carrie and all these that have stayed and had to bear with me. Aha!


End file.
